


Wonderland

by TenSpencerRiedPlease



Series: Back in Black [6]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Cultural Differences, Gen, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 14:45:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14499282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenSpencerRiedPlease/pseuds/TenSpencerRiedPlease
Summary: Jakarra tries, and fails, to stay upright on the ice and Mandla laughs. “How are you this bad at walking on ice? Its so easy!” he says, catching Jakarra before he smacks into the ice face first.“Someof us did not grow up with this hellish water form all around us,” he mumbles, glaring at the ice while Mandla held him upright. He doesn’t even do anything heswearsand he slips again, relying on Mandla to catch him again.“You are absolutely hopeless, Jakarra,” Mandla tells him, carefully righting him.





	Wonderland

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to update this series for awhile so here it is!

Jakarra tries, and fails, to stay upright on the ice and Mandla laughs. “How are you this bad at walking on ice? Its so easy!” he says, catching Jakarra before he smacks into the ice face first.

“ _Some_ of us did not grow up with this hellish water form all around us,” he mumbles, glaring at the ice while Mandla held him upright. He doesn’t even do anything he _swears_ and he slips again, relying on Mandla to catch him again.

“You are absolutely hopeless, Jakarra,” Mandla tells him, carefully righting him.

“And you are a bad teacher. How am I supposed to survive the American winter if I can’t walk on ice?” he asks more to himself than Mandla. He’s going to _die_.

Mandla sighs and looks him over. “Maybe it’s your shoes. They aren’t meant for walking on ice,” he says. “Come with me.”

*

Jakarra looks strange but… good in Jabari clothing. It isn’t worn even remotely right given that Jakarra has no idea where the furs go or even how to tie the boots he’s wearing, but if he’s to survive the ice the clothing to actually manage the weather should help or at least Mandla thinks it will. If it doesn’t he will accept that Jakarra will die in America and he will be out one friend. Truthfully he will be out more than that but he keeps that to himself because Jakarra doesn’t need to be bothered with his feelings. That and he has no idea if Jakarra returns then and he certainly isn’t going to _ask_. Jakarra is the last person he should have developed an absurd crush on to begin with but despite his spoiled upbringing and attitude he’s… well, charismatic.

“I feel like an idiot with all this fur. This is so dramatic,” Jakarra mumbles and Mandla raises an eyebrow.

“Have you even _seen_ the rest of Wakanda? Because all your bright colors and patters are far more dramatic than our furs. And the fur is practical,” he adds. Most things in Jabari lands are made for practicality; it’s the _rest_ of the country that has a thing for theatricality. Compared to the mute, natural tones of the furs and leather in the Jabari lands the rest of the country burned the retinas.

“This is all so heavy, how do you function wearing all this?” Jakarra asks, frowning down at his clothing.

“Oh would you stop complaining,” he tells Jakarra, shaking his head fondly. “Get outside so we can test your ability to walk on the ice.”

In Jakarra’s slight defense he manages to last five seconds before he nearly falls instead of a half a second like before. He catches Jakarra and rights him on the ice easily, used to the slippery texture he’s been walking on his whole life. “I am doomed,” Jakarra says, giving the ice a forlorn look. Mandla has to agree with Jakarra’s assessment- he’s witnessed babies taking their first steps on ice do better than Jakarra.

“Well, its only a little bit of time,” he says in a poor attempt to make Jakarra feel better.

Jakarra looks up with a dramatically horrified expression on his face, “do you know how _long_ winter is in America? If the first month doesn’t kill me the next three will,” he says. Mandla has no bright side to that so he tries a different route.

“You could always move back here, avoid the winter all together,” he says. Its not, he tells himself, because he misses Jakarra and wishes he were around more. He only says it because Jakarra really will die on ice if he were to remain in America for a long winter.

“I have a job, I can’t just leave it even if I want to. Seriously, public bathrooms should be illegal unless you are not a heathen,” he mumbles.

Mandla laughs, shaking his head, “and how would you test for that?” he asks because he knows Jakarra has an answer.

“Bring a picture with a date stamp of your bathroom at home and if it is not disgusting you can feel free to pee and leave the bathroom in the same condition you would leave your own in. Just because it is in public does not mean that is a free pass to leave it a mess. Especially since I am the one cleaning it,” he mumbles. He means _only_ because he is the one cleaning it but Mandla leaves it alone. Jakarra will learn.

“You’ve always got an answer for everything,” Mandla says, shaking his head.

“So long as it is after noon yes. Before that is a time that I refuse to function in. Anything happening earlier than that should be illegal,” he says, wrinkling his nose. Mandla wonders how horrified Jakarra would be to learn that his day usually starts at five in the morning. That is just how Jabari life works, though.

“You are too pampered,” he tells Jakarra.

“And you are clearly in need of a life of luxury,” Jakarra counters just like always. It makes him smile despite his initial irritation with how little Jakarra really has to do. His laziness and unwillingness to do things to better his community would not go well in Jabari territory. Here everyone, including the prince, contributes. No one is allowed to become a spoiled brat like Jakarra, but then that freedom has given Jakarra an interesting set of experiences that has resulted in an interesting thinking pattern.

“I am fine with my life as is, thank you,” he tells Jakarra but he shakes his head.

“Only because you have not had a taste of the- ahh!” he yells, flailing a little before Mandla catches him and rights him again.

“You really are bad at this. I genuinely do not understand _how_ you are so bad at this,” he says, shaking his head.

“Leave me be, I have never walked on ice before,” Jakarra says in his own defense but Mandla shakes his head.

“You have been coming up here since you were a child- every time you have to walk on ice. How is it that you fall over so much when you _do_ have experience?” he asks.

Jakarra shrugs, “nature hates me if its slippery?” he asks more than states and Mandla sighs.

“You are hopeless.”

*

He hates the snow, he has always hated the snow but he hates it more now than ever. Mostly because he is freezing and Mandla finds it amusing. “My shivering is not funny,” he says through chattering teeth.

“You are _covered_ in furs, more than most of us even wear so how are you still cold?” he asks, looking Jakarra over. He doesn’t think too hard about his reaction to that and instead focuses on not freezing to death, which is a much more pressing matter than his confusing feelings.

“I am not used to this environment. In Wakanda people from chillier environments do not adjust to the heat well. The various workers we’ve gotten from Britain are ready for death at _any_ sign of heat so they mostly work at night,” he says. Just the faintest sign of heat and they were all panting like dogs ready to keel over at any moment. He has the opposite problem wherein ice is prepared to kill him at any moment.

“The Jabari adjust to the heat just fine,” Mandla says proudly and Jakarra snorts.

“Yeah, but that’s because you’re not British. Seriously, I have no idea how they managed to take over the world that one time when they are all nearly dead at weather that is only twenty three degrees. That’s _chilly_ ,” he says, shaking his head. In America that’s considered good weather, which confuses him because that is the kind of weather that requires a sweater. Though if you wear one the Americans will all look at you like you’ve grown a second head or something. It’s hardly his fault that temperatures in his country were usually about seven degrees higher give or take.

“Something tells me they will not fare better here,” Mandla says and Jakarra snorts.

“Its all work no play here, it surprises me that _you_ do well here,” he says. If he were Jabari he would jump off one of those pretty mountains. At least the view would be pleasant when he dies. He much prefers his section of the country though he harbors none of the resentment he used to towards the Jabari. Mostly he found their lack of fun boring and stifling but that’s not anything like the opinions he used to have.

Mandla laughs, “I _like_ it here. You are just too used to being a spoiled princeling. Here,” he says, pulling his fur off his shoulders and draping it around Jakarra. On him the fur is much larger thanks to his shorter and slighter frame. What matters most to him though is that the fur is _warm_ , very warm.

“Thank you,” he says as his body heat finally remains _in_ his body.

“The fur is warmer than any other furs we have,” he explains. “I figured if anything would get you to stop whining it would be that.”

Jakarra rolls his eyes; not believing Mandla was annoyed with his whining at all.

*

He’s three quarters of the way back to his house when he realizes that he still has Mandla’s fur but after a brief moment of deliberation he continues home with it anyways, pleased to have the tangible reminder of Mandla while he’s away.

Its not until he gets back to America that he considers his decision, _really_ considers it. He’s examining the fur, unsure where to put it when it occurs to him that he has no idea how to care for it. Or even if it needed to be cared for. He considers what Mandla has told him about the fur when he realizes what he has done. To get the fur Jabari have to earn it- they have to do something important for the community and the fur is an honor to have. And Jakarra just off and _stole_ it from Mandla without a thought to what that could mean for him all out of a selfish need to feel close to him. Stupid, he thinks, just _stupid_.

*

Mandla doesn’t remember the fur until Jakarra is long gone, and by the time he really starts to freak out Jakarra is probable back in America and dead on some ice. Meaning he isn’t getting his fur back any time soon if ever. He considers this for a long time before he eventually comes to the conclusion that he has to somehow avoid his regular duties. He can’t be seen without the fur, people will ask questions and he couldn’t tell them he gave it to the damn prince of Wakanda nor could he possibly tell anyone he _lost_ the fur. Losing a blessing from a god- what would people think? Its not normally a pressing matter for him but he usually isn’t so irresponsible that he’s losing his furs either.

When his father shows up at his door he shouldn’t be surprised but he is and unlike everyone else he can’t just shut the door on him either. So he lets him in and avoids eye contact- how could he look his father, his _king_ , in the eye knowing what he’s done?

“You lost the fur didn’t you?” he asks and Mandla looks up, surprised.

“How did you know that?” he asks, shocked.

M’Baku laughs, “you never shirk your duties, usually you go out of your way to be helpful. It was the only explanation for your strange behavior. Oh don’t look so surprised; I was young once, it happens. You probably left it somewhere strange, like at the bottom of your laundry hamper. Or at a lover’s house, hmm?” he asks, grinning down at him.

Mandla laughs a little, shaking his head. “That is not what happened,” he says.

“You need to get out more, its all work no play with you. Live a little,” his father tells him.

“I think losing my fur is enough living for me, thank you,” he says. Too much if he’s honest. He likes his routine and as per usual Jakarra has to go throwing him of a loop he didn’t expect. This isn’t even the first time its happened but this is probably the most important thing Jakarra has managed to mess up for him. And its his own damn fault.

“Relax, it happens to all of us. It will turn up. In the meantime please fish, the young ones are terrible at it and we can’t starve everyone out because they don’t know how to throw a net,” he says, shaking his head.

Mandla snorts, “told you I should have taught them, now I have to unteach them whatever they learned and then teach them the _right_ way to fish,” he says, sighing. More work for him not that he minds- its just that things are more efficient if he doesn’t have to do everything twice.

*

His fur turns up but not at all in a way that he expects. Actually he doesn’t hear about it until he overhears someone _else_ talking about Jakarra in his father’s throne room talking about furs.

*

Jakarra is lucky that he has an understanding parent. Normally his father isn’t quite as lenient as he had been this time- contrary to his Tata’s thoughts on the matter- but he must have sensed something was wrong. Which is how he found himself in M’Baku’s throne room hoping that he is not about to get himself killed.

“You _stole_ the fur?” he asks, squinting suspiciously at Jakarra.

He nods, “that’s what I said.”

“How did you get up here?” M’Baku asks.

He frowns, not sure why he’s getting so many questions instead of… he doesn’t know, whatever kind of punishment M’Baku decides is necessary. “I took the back roads up the mountain, the ones that are mostly hidden in the trees on the south side,” he says. It’s the truth and thanks to that he’s sure that there will be more Jabari over there now, making visiting Mandla impossible. Not that he’d want to see him anyways after he _stole_ his fur.

“And how did you manage to get all the way into the center of Jabari territory without being noticed?” M’Baku asks. “Because I don’t think you’re that clever. Or quiet.”

He probably has a point about that last bit but Jakarra ignores that mostly in favor of coming up with some kind of excuse that doesn’t involve Mandla. “There are alleys all around this particular section of town, I used those,” he says. Not a lie also, but its not information he should know and M’Baku knows it. Mandla bursts into the room and M’Baku holds up his hand, promptly cutting off whatever Mandla had been about to do or say. He’s surprised when Mandla just deflates and stands off to the side because its so unlike the way he usually sees Mandla act.

“Let me get this straight,” M’Baku says. “You made your way up to Jabari territory via a less secure path most Wakandans don’t know about, used alleyways you would have no knowledge of to steal Mandla’s fur with no perceivable motivations given that you have returned it humbly and undamaged. That entire story is a lie and I don’t appreciate lies, child, so start telling the truth,” he says, raising an eyebrow. It’s a surprisingly kingly gesture given how common it is. M’Baku makes it feel different though and Jakarra sighs, trying to come up with some kind of motivation for himself that doesn’t involve Mandla.

“I’ve made my way up here before. I thought the fur looked cool,” he says. It’s a stupid excuse even to his own ears so when M’Baku rolls his eyes he’s not exactly surprised.

“Alright, leave us,” he says, waving off the rest of the people in the room. When Mandla goes to leave M’Baku calls him back. Mandla winces and stays where he is and M’Baku remains silent until everyone has left. “Mandla, when I told you to live a little I did not mean allowing the prince of Wakanda into our lands and loaning him your fur. Live a little less next time,” he says.

Mandla and Jakarra sputter, exchanging looks with one another because neither of them could figure out how the hell M’Baku figured that out. “You two _do_ realize I am not stupid, right?” he asks.

“Oh course!” Mandla says right away. When M’Baku raises an eyebrow at Jakarra he shrugs.

“I don’t think you’re stupid, but I don’t see how you’d know that either,” he says.

“Because I am not stupid, child. Keep up. You have been coming back with strange knowledge of Wakanda for years, and after a conversation with T’Challa it turns out this one has some strange knowledge of the Jabari too. Which could only happen if you two talk on a regular basis, which I know you do because _I_ guard that south side entrance into Jabari lands, you two just didn’t know that. And even if I didn’t have all that information you two just exchanged a look with such familiarity that I could only come to the conclusion that it has happened many times before,” he says. “Care to explain your lies now, princeling?” M’Baku asks him.

Jakarra sighs and slumps his shoulders. “Mandla was trying to teach me how to walk on ice but mostly he only succeeded in making me cold. Which is why I had the fur- its warm. I only realized I had it when I was half way home and then I stupidly kept it anyways-” he would have continued but M’Baku cuts him off.

“Then why bring it back?” he asks.

“I was _getting_ there,” Jakarra says and M’Baku rolls his eyes.

“Then get to the point, child. I wanted the truth not your whole life story,” he says, waving a hand dismissively.

He sighs and continues. “When I got back to America I realized that I had no idea how to care for the fur and more than that I remembered everything else Mandla told me about the fur. Like how you have to earn it. And I _stole_ that from him. so I came to return it,” he explains.

“Why lie?” M’Baku asks, head tilted to the side.

“Because it wasn’t Mandla’s fault, he shouldn’t have to suffer because I did something stupid,” he mumbles, looking away.

M’Baku sighs and hands the fur in his lap over to Mandla. “Try not to loan it to selfish princelings in the future, will you?” he asks.

It takes a second for Mandla to act but when he does he all but leaps forward. “You’re seriously giving it back? _Why_?” he asks.

“Because your princeling may be selfish, but he has honor. And guts. I can appreciate that even if I wish you had chosen better,” he says, giving Jakarra a skeptical look before standing. “I would suggest not doing something so stupid again,” he tells Jakarra before walking out of the room.

Jakarra frowns and turns to Mandla, “what just happened?” he asks.

Mandla frowns after his father, “I think he thinks we’re dating. Thank you though, for the fur. And for trying to leave me out of it even if that was really stupid of you. Its my fault you had to begin with,” he says, looking at the ground.

“You were trying to keep me from freezing to death, that hardly counts as your fault. I was the one who took it home because I wanted a reminder of you around and decided stealing a _cultural artifact_ was a way to go about that. It was cruel and selfish of me,” he says honestly.

Mandla opens his mouth to respond but instead he closes his mouth and walks over to him, throwing his arms around him. “You are so stupid, why do I like you?”

*

T’Challa rubs his temples, “tormenting the Jabari _again_ ,” he says to Tony.

Tony sighs, “T’Challa he did something stupid, but he owned up to it. Actually he took on more responsibility in the situation than he technically had. This is a good thing,” he says.

“How can you say that? He is going to start a damn war!” T’Challa yells.

“Or he’ll bridge a cultural gap literally every king of this country, _you_ included, has left open. He’s been friends with this Mandla kid for years, he’s been correcting assumptions about the Jabari for years, and he understands their culture and traditions enough to know when he’s disrespected them. _And_ he owned up to that _unprompted_. This is that maturity you’ve been looking for, T’Challa.” But he doesn’t see it because as usual he’s too worried about his own assumptions about Jakarra.

“I would prefer his maturity come from somewhere that does not result in me getting visits from M’Baku asking questions I don’t know how to answer. Do you understand what his actions could have meant for Wakanda?” T’Challa asks.

Tony rolls his eyes. “Contrary to popular belief _yes_ , I do. Everyone here made damn sure I knew everything there was to know and then hated me for knowing it while simultaneously expecting me to understand their culture. By all means it made no damn sense but the point is that I get it- the Jabari are easily agitated and his actions could have started some big problems to put it lightly. But they didn’t. Instead Jakarra took the opportunity no other royal in this country has and reached out to try and understand the Jabari, to learn about them without expecting them to assimilate to his views of what Wakanda should be. He bridged a gap because unlike you he wasn’t too scared of doing something wrong.’

And when he did do something wrong he fixed it. Thankfully without starting wars or getting himself killed in the process.

“A little fear is a good thing, Tony. Not that I expect you to understand that,” T’Challa mumbles and Tony’s eyebrows shoot up.

“You aren’t wrong, but too much fear means you get stuck repeating the same mistakes everyone else has despite the obvious evidence that you’re wrong. But if you’ve got something to say to me by all means go ahead. I’m just _dying_ to know why you’re using that condescending tone with me for no damn reason,” Tony tells him, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You’re not going to want to answer that, he’s out for blood,” Jakarra says from the doorway. “And he’s right. we have ignored the Jabari for centuries and its not right. We should reach out.”

Tony raises an eyebrow at T’Challa, “are you going to accept Jakarra’s attempts at being involved in politics and Wakanda or are you going to do what you usually do and tell him its not good enough because it isn’t exactly what you want him to do?” he asks. Its too blunt, too harsh, but at the moment he has no patience for T’Challa’s absurd behavior. From the hallway Jakarra winces.

“In Tata’s defense I am not good at this,” he says.

“When he was your age neither was he. But he doesn’t give you much opportunity to learn either, and then acts surprised when you screw up,” Tony says, not looking at Jakarra. T’Challa wilts a little under his gaze. As he _should_.

T’Challa sighs, “what is it you have in mind?” he asks Jakarra, finally giving the kid the chance he deserves.

All his tests and rules and standards and not once has T’Challa considered that in his own strange way Jakarra is trying- its just that his way of doing things isn’t T’Challa’s. But T’Challa took that to mean he’s doing things wrong instead of differently and his opinions of his son have suffered for it. In light of this new thing with the Jabari Tony is done with that though- its time T’Challa learned to stop projecting his own fear of failure onto his son. He might fear what he will leave for this country but that is not Jakarra’s problem. The kid has enough problems on his own; he doesn’t need T’Challa’s too.

**Author's Note:**

> [My writing Tumblr](https://tenspencerriedplease.tumblr.com/)


End file.
